A Lifelong Church Member's View of Salvation
Now his elder son was in the field; and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing....He was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, "Lo, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command; yet you never gave me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your living with harlots, you killed for him the fatted calf." Luke 15:25-30, RSV.
Not everybody likes a party!
The older son was one of those. And as a 19-year-old convert when I first read this parable I agreed with him. After all, he did have an excellent argument. Why rejoice at his brother's return? After all, he has recklessly spent his share of the inheritance. And now he wants to come home and spend mine. Why rejoice about that?
Good point! And don't forget the brother's reason for the trip home. Please remember that he was destitute and starving. What else could he do? There is little wonder that the older son was angry. I would have been so also.
Why the party? he cries. Give him what he deserves. Let him work his fingers down to the bone and then maybe he should have a few scraps off the (spelled "my") table.
That, my friends, is an excellent description of human justice. Give him what he deserves. And that's human logic. Give people what they deserve. But the Father's logic says give them what they need, give them what they don't deserve, give them grace.
But that is one thing that this good churchgoing son never really understood. Just listen to his outburst: "I kept all your stinking commandments, yet you never gave me a party. Do you really think I like all that holy stuff? I went to church every Sabbath, but I hated every minute of it. But I did it anyway. That ought to count for something."
And look where his heart really was. "And there is that so-called son of yours. He was out living it up with prostitutes while I was cleaning the sheep manure from under my fingernails after a hard day in the field. I really wanted to do what he did. But instead I slaved away on your stupid farm. I deserved a party and never got one."
The tragedy of the story is that the good boy--the boy who never left the father's house or the church, the boy who had all of the privileges--never understood the father. What a terrible waste--to spend one's life in the Father's house with the heart and mind of a hired servant rather than those of a son or daughter.
Now his elder son was in the field; and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing....He was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, "Lo, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command; yet you never gave me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your living with harlots, you killed for him the fatted calf." Luke 15:25-30, RSV.
Not everybody likes a party!
The older son was one of those. And as a 19-year-old convert when I first read this parable I agreed with him. After all, he did have an excellent argument. Why rejoice at his brother's return? After all, he has recklessly spent his share of the inheritance. And now he wants to come home and spend mine. Why rejoice about that?
Good point! And don't forget the brother's reason for the trip home. Please remember that he was destitute and starving. What else could he do? There is little wonder that the older son was angry. I would have been so also.
Why the party? he cries. Give him what he deserves. Let him work his fingers down to the bone and then maybe he should have a few scraps off the (spelled "my") table.
That, my friends, is an excellent description of human justice. Give him what he deserves. And that's human logic. Give people what they deserve. But the Father's logic says give them what they need, give them what they don't deserve, give them grace.
But that is one thing that this good churchgoing son never really understood. Just listen to his outburst: "I kept all your stinking commandments, yet you never gave me a party. Do you really think I like all that holy stuff? I went to church every Sabbath, but I hated every minute of it. But I did it anyway. That ought to count for something."
And look where his heart really was. "And there is that so-called son of yours. He was out living it up with prostitutes while I was cleaning the sheep manure from under my fingernails after a hard day in the field. I really wanted to do what he did. But instead I slaved away on your stupid farm. I deserved a party and never got one."
The tragedy of the story is that the good boy--the boy who never left the father's house or the church, the boy who had all of the privileges--never understood the father. What a terrible waste--to spend one's life in the Father's house with the heart and mind of a hired servant rather than those of a son or daughter.
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